


Getting Along (And Getting Off)

by banana-babies (Manyaraz)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon GO
Genre: BACK AT IT AGAIN AT SHAMELESS FILTH, Face-Sitting, Multi, No vaginal penetration, Pegging, Strap in kids, Strap-Ons, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M, more like STRAP ON lmfao kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:59:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8119015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manyaraz/pseuds/banana-babies
Summary: Someone wails on karaoke in the back while her friends laugh uproariously. A glass tips off a table and shatters to curses and frantic apologies. Blanche is staring, confused, disgusted, right over Spark’s shoulder. Candella doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol giving her liquid courage or if she’s always been this much of an ass, but either way she closes the distance and kisses Spark.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have probably worked on this fic longer than any other before. I'm pretty sure I started this a few days after the team leader designs were revealed and I'm scared to look up how long ago that was. I'm sure this could be better or I could get my point across clearer, and I definitely cut some corners but honestly I am so incredibly tired of writing this just take it from me, take it from me and please enjoy.

Professor Willow is fully aware of the rivalry between his assistants. They’re young and passionate. Healthy competition is not only expected, but helpful in furthering their research. However, the Professor wishes they remembered they were all on the same team (his team)  _ and  _ the same payroll (his payroll).

“Now that we’re done with general updates, please give me your reports.”

The three of them glance at each other and Professor Willow clears his throat. He looks to Blanche and she sits up straighter.

“I will begin, then. Team Mystic has continued its work researching the mechanics of pokemon evolution. We’ve perfected the art of melting down pokemon-specific candies to study their chemical composition.”

“How interesting! What have you found?”

Blanche presses her lips into a thin line before continuing. “They seem...to be composed almost entirely of sugar.”

“...Yes?”

“That is all.”

Professor Willow chuckles awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck. “Alright. How about you, Candella?”

Candella puffs up. “We have an entire flock of pidgeys that can lift 45 kilos each. Our intense training regimens are working when it comes to bringing out the natural strength of pokemon!”

“Er, that’s very impressive.” He tries to smile. “But...why pidgeys? Wouldn’t they be even stronger fully evolved?”

“Pshh,” Candella leans back in her chair and waves her hand dismissively. “You’ve got to start out with the best to get the best. Besides,” she darts a sly look at Blanche, “occupying oneself with candy like some spoiled child isn’t really my thing.”

Blanche stands up, slamming her hands down on the table. “Look. Science is not perfect, but it’s better than the frivolities _ you  _ occupy yourself with.”

“Excuse me? My pidgeys could beat your pidgeys ass.”

“I don’t even have pidgeys. I have a very talented pidgeot like any self-respecting trainer.”

“Are you shittalking my pidgeys?”

“Ahahaha, ooookay there,” Professor Willow cuts in. “Now, I know you’re both  _ excited _ about your research, but there’s no need to be so, uh, boisterous.”

Blanche glares dark enough to kill, but Candella just grins back and looks at her from under her lashes. Blanche is the first to break.

“Hmph.” She sits down heavily, crossing her legs and crossing her arms over her chest. Candella lets out a little ‘heh’ and Professor Willow exhales.

“So Spark, you haven’t spoken yet. What do you have to report?”

“Huh?” Spark looks up and Professor Willow gets a glance of scrawled pikachus with mis-aligned faces on the papers in front of him before he hurriedly turns them over.

“Your report?”

“Oh!” Spark perks up. “I discovered that I can jog with fifteen eggs at once! Isn’t that cool? Only small ones though.”

“I see-“

“Also, my assistants have been collecting data on whether pokemon hatch faster if we play them speed metal. So far, results have been inconclusive, but I’m trusting my gut on this one. Why wouldn’t they hatch faster if we played them really fast music?”

“That’s very nice Spark,” Professor Willow says.  _ At least the first thing is kind of useful,  _ he thinks.

_ What a fool,  _ Candella and Blanche think in unison.

“Alright.” Professor Willow claps his hands together. “That concludes our meeting then.”

“That was fast. Don’t you have new assignments for us?”

“Actually, yes.” The next words almost pain him to say but--this meeting aside--they do really try. “You three have been working hard. I’ve decided to give you a bonus.”

“Oooh, I could really use some new pants-” Spark cuts himself off with an ‘oomph’ when Blanche elbows him in the side. 

Professor Willow takes a deep breath and Spark grins sheepishly. “Sorry prof.” 

“It’s already been transferred to your accounts. However, there’s one condition.”

“Oh?”

“I want you to go out to somewhere nice tonight, together. And...” His voice drops into uncharacteristic but unmistakable menace. “You  _ will _ get along.”

They shiver. 

“Yes- yes sir!” 

~ * ~ 

They end up at a bar. They’re in Valor turf and Candella claims she knows the best spot. Sounds of karaoke and laughter blare through the dim-lit bar. The patrons are a bleed of red. A flareon stretches over the laps of three giggling girls and growlithes tussle in the corner. The bartender’s charmander sets shots on fire to the delight of those willing to tip big. 

The three leaders are in plain clothes and no one pays them any mind. Still, tenseness rolls off Blanche in waves. She’s uncomfortable, she’s surrounded. 

She’s in enemy territory now.

They sit down in the only three empty chairs. Blanche maneuvers so that Spark is between them both and Candella’s smile gets tight. 

“Why are we here, anyway? Couldn’t we go somewhere more respectable?” Blanche shouts over the din. 

“He said to have fun!” Candella shouts back. “Besides, we already ate with the Professor, so a restaurant was out.”

“I suppose that’s correct.”

“There’s a gastly in here,” Spark mutters, looking at his watch.

“Anyway, drinks!” 

The night goes by fast. Blanche sips at her single drink while Spark and Candella get progressively more inebriated. Their stools scoot closer and closer as they boast of their pokemon in a friendly, childish way. Spark’s been going on late night gym-stealing adventures with his assistants and Candella humors him before telling him about how she’s painted whole towns red with small armies of her devoted followers. Spark takes it in stride. 

“Man, alright, alright- Candella.”

“Yeah?”

He grins dopely, leaning on his elbow and pushing back his hair. “You may have like, a bunch of really strong people on your side, but I got  _ this. _ ”

He gestures down at himself and Candella tilts her head.

“My looks!” Spark laughs out. “All the ladies want to be on Team Instinct.”

Candella takes another sip. “Really?”

Spark beams. “Yup! 

Blanche scoffs from the other side of him, shoulders hunched up to her ears. It pisses Candella off, it pisses her off so much. Here they are, supposed to be getting along and having fun and Blanche is still pulling her holier-than-thou bullshit. It’s impossible not to resent her, or want to shove her in proverbial locker via gym battles, or want to shove her against a locker-

Wait. Getting off topic.

Candella’s eyes rake over Spark’s form with mis-directed heat. He’s sprawled out with a lazy confidence even on the tiny barstool, pants oh-so tight, the flush on his pale skin absolutely precious. He looks like prey and Candella’s getting a wicked idea. There has to be some way to get Blance to admit she’s as human as the rest of them.

She puts her hand on his thigh and squeezes, humming. “I guess you do have the kind of looks girls go for.”

Blanche’s eyes have stopped darting around the room. Spark laughs. “Finally! You admit it.” His grin slides into the edge of flustered. “Though...Okay, don’t tell anyone I said this, but you’re pretty  _ hot _ too.”

“Yeah? Well-”

“Get it? Because you’re all about fire!” 

Candella groans.  _ C’mon Spark, you gotta work with me _ .

But Spark’s doing that cute hiccuping-drunk giggle and even Blanche chuckles so Candella laughs despite herself.

“You little shit!” 

She punches Spark in the side and Spark yelps. “Hey! Hey, look- Look. It was a good joke.” 

Candella looks away and feigns hurt. “Yeah, whatever. You think my looks are a joke.”

“Noo! I didn’t mean that at all. C’mon, you’ve got more confidence than that. You’ve totally got the smokey--sorry for using more fire related words--sexy lady leader vibe going on.”

Candella runs her finger around the rim of her glass. “Mhm.”

“Candellaaa,” he whines. “I’m being serious.”

She finally turns towards him and he’s leaned in close and he’s fallen right into her trap. “I was being serious too,” she murmurs barely loud enough to be heard over the general din. His eyes widen and hers are shining fierce as she makes the space between them measure mere centimeters. 

Someone wails on karaoke in the back while her friends laugh uproariously. A glass tips off a table and shatters to curses and frantic apologies. Blanche is staring, confused, disgusted, right over Spark’s shoulder. Candella doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol giving her liquid courage or if she’s always been this much of an ass, but either way she closes the distance and kisses Spark.  

He breathes in sharp through his nose. Candella closes her eyes. After a moment, he does too and kisses back, lips slow and soft. Candella licks into his mouth and cups his cheek. Spark melts into it without protest, hand wrapping around her forearm. Candella is fully aware of how good she is at kissing. 

“What- What are you two _ doing? _ ” Blanche hisses behind them. 

Candella strokes her knuckles down Spark’s neck. 

“We’re in public!” This isn’t  _ that _ kind of bar and people are staring and if people keep staring someone is definitely going to figure out who they are.

  
  


They ignore Blanche, lips smacking wetly against each other.

“Oh my god.” Blanche fumbles out her wallet and digs out roughly enough bills to cover what they’ve already had. She shoves them on the bartop before hopping off her stool and wrenching the two of them apart. 

“Wha-?”

“Outside. Now.”

They shiver in the alley behind the bar, street lamp casting a muted glow over the three of them. Spark keeps looking at Candella, touching his lips. Candella leans back against the wall, arms crossed. Blanche is furious.

“Was that some kind of stunt? You know we can’t call attention to ourselves in public. Someone might recognize us. And we especially should stay away from something- Something like _ that _ .”

Candella glances over at her, purses her lips. “You’re just jealous.”

“What? No!”

Spark--bless his heart--backs her up. He scratches under his ear, looking the other way “If you really wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked. I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, Blanche. If you feel left out you’re always welcome to join.” She snickers and Spark giggles too. 

Blanche splutters, fists clenched at her sides. “You two are drunk,” she says, neatly writing off their antics as alcohol-induced shenanigans, as not real at all. 

It really pisses Candella off.

“Well,” Candella bits out. “If you don’t feel left out you don’t mind if we continue, right?”

“Yeah!” Spark says, blinks. “Wait, what?”

Candella slams him against the wall. Spark gasps as Candella starts mouthing his neck, his fingernails scraping against the wall and alcohol-jelly legs sagging. She slips her hands under Spark’s shirt and his eyes fog up, tilting his head so Candella can reach more of his neck. He’s easy, he’s so fucking easy and it’s a godsend right now.

It takes a good forty-two seconds before Blanche gains enough of her senses to yank Candella back and she stumbles, shoes scuffing over the dirty alley street. 

“I’m driving you two back right now.”

“Back?”

“To your apartment.”

“How? We took my car.”

“Give me your keys.”

“Pshh, no wa- Augh! Blanche!”

“Heyyyy, you drank too.”

“I had one. I’m fine.”

“Buzzed driving is still drunk driving!” Spark sing-songs the slogan like everything is fine, like Candella’s lipstick isn’t smeared over his skin, trailing after Blanche and Candella.

“I’m not even buzzed.”

“Give me my keys back!”

“No.”

And that’s how they end up in Candella’s car, Candella whispering ‘Wanna really make her mad?’ into Sparks ear in the backseat, Spark giggling back a ‘No’ but making out with her anyway, hot and heavy and swapping alcohol soaked spit. Blanche turns up the radio but she can’t tune our Spark’s moan, can’t help but look in the rear view mirror to see Candella licking her lips, unbuttoning the top of her coat.

“Shit!” Blanche slams on the brakes, stopping inches away from the car in front of them. Spark yelps as he’s thrown off the seat and Candella barely catches herself from the same fate.

“Put on your seatbelts!” She snaps.

“Stop getting distracted,” Candella simpers back.

Blanche grips the steering wheel hard and stares straight ahead, but her ears are burning and Candella knows she’s already won. 

They make it to Candella’s apartment in one piece. Blanche ushers them up the stairs and fumbles the lock open, all but shoving them inside. She closes the door behind them, behind her. Candella leers, wrapped around Spark. 

Blanche’s face is twisted in a glare but she’s looking at her, she’s looking at her and she’s not leaving.

“I’m just making sure you two don’t get sick,” she says.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Spark glances between them both. “You can watch if you’re shy,” he says, drunk and drunk on lust. This isn’t the first time, this isn’t the first time lightning and fire have clashed and Blanche knows it. 

Blanche swallows, opens her mouth, closes it. She’s never had enough heart to tell Spark to shut up. They turn away from her, towards the bedroom, and after an agonized moment Blanche follows. 

~ * ~

Spark whines, legs twitching apart, breathing heavy, as Candela enters him with the thick silicon of her strapon. She pushes in slow and Spark is so grateful for that. They may have messed around before, but this is their first time doing  _ this _ . The stretch doesn’t hurt, but it’s kinda overwhelming and he doesn’t know what to think about it yet. Candella drags her eyes over his bare chest, the sheen of sweat on his skin, the scrunched up expression on his face. 

“You’re doing so good,” Candella murmurs, dragging her nails lightly over his thighs.

“Y-yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs, bottoming out, biting her lip as Spark makes this little whimper that goes straight to her gut. “You look really good like this, Spark,” her voice is rough and low and Blanche watches with what she hopes is disgust as Spark’s dick twitches at the praise, the tone. 

They’re on the bed and she’s sitting on a chair in the corner. It’s as tastefull of an arrangement as Blanche can manage--given the circumstances--but it’s getting harder and harder to stay composed with both of them like this: Candella is naked, all dark skin and tight muscle, heavy breasts and hot breaths. Spark beneath her, passive and- and admittedly gorgeous in his pliant trust and shameless arousal. 

Blanche has never considered herself susceptible to the carnal, but this night--and more specifically--Candella’s dogged determination to be as scandalous as possible is testing her limits. Her thighs press tight together.

“Th-thank- Ugh!”

Candella rocks her hips and Spark’s words get strangled in his throat. “Hey, Blanche,” she says.

Blanche starts. “What?”

“You should sit on his face.”

_ “What?!” _ Two voices say in unison.

“While I fuck him, sit on his face.” She grips Spark’s thighs and lifts him up slightly, searching, trying to find the right angle. 

“Ghhck, wait-” Spark can barely speak behind clenched teeth. This sensation- It feels so wrong, so gross, so lewd. It’s lighting up his nerves and he’s vibrating with it all, can barely hold it. 

And then Candella gets the angle.

“Oh god, oh ffuuuck. Hahn, ahhn-”

Blanche’s face flushes dark, breath caught in her throat. Watching. She watches as Spark pants, as he mumbles a confused little, “H-how?”. Her fingers curl in the fabric of her pants, making claws. Her blood rushes with lust. 

Candella chuckles, eyes half-lidded and grin like a cheshire cat as she languidly thrusts into Spark. His legs hang over Candella’s shoulders, arms sprawled over his head, stars in his eyes. 

“Candella,” he breathes out. “Candella th-this feels really good.”

“Aww,” she coos. “You’re cute, Spark. You like getting fucked, dontcha?”

“Shuddup! Don’t talk t-to me like a baby while your, uhhn, f-fucking me.”

“Heh. Okay, I’ll only talk to you like a baby when I’m  _ not _ fucking you.”

Spark whines playfully even as Candella continues to push in and out of him and  _ now _ Blanche feels left out. Suddenly she wants it. She wants that easy camaraderie, the gentle teasing, even the casual sex. She wants it gripping and desperate; these things that come so easy to others and seem so impossible to her.

She wants to- She’s going to try.

“Okay,” Blanche says.

“Hm?” Candella looks back at her. Sparks fucked-out noises fill the room. 

“Okay,” Blanche repeats and stands up, unbuttoning her pants with steady hands.

Candella’s eyes widen. “Oh.”

After a split-second of hesitation Blanche yanks down her pants, lips pressed tight together and eyes fixed on the floor. Her shirt hangs long but Candella can still see the edge of her panties. They’re purple with white lace. 

“Cute,” Candella says, almost without thinking. Blanche quickly follows her gaze and her expression twists into something even more uncomfortable. 

“What?” 

Candella licks her lips. “You gonna leave your shirt on?”

“What is it to you?” Blanche takes a deep breath and steps out of her underwear; long shirt still leaving some semblance of modesty.

“Nothing.” Candella turns her attention back to Spark, rising higher on her knees and bending his back more. 

“Ah! Ahn- O-oh.”

“Heh.”

Blanche slides onto the bed, all skinny limbs and and flushed skin and barely-concealed nerves. “Are you sure he’s not too far gone?”

“I’m right- I’m right here.”

Candella slides her hands down to knead his ass. “You too far gone to eat Blanche’s pussy, Spark?”

Blanche flinches at Candella’s crude words, like she’s never heard anything dirty before. Holy fuck does it piss Candella off. 

She doesn't pause her slow, steady, thrusts. 

“Nooo,” Spark moans out. 

Candella hums. “See, he’s fine. Sit on his face.”

Spark’s drooling, his dick is drooling all over his stomach. Candella’s already got him so undone, so helpless. It’s enough to override her trepidation. It’s enough to make her want to, god, she wants to feel good too-

“Alright.”

She straddles his head, knees on either side of it, back facing Candella and hands twisting through his hair. He stares up at her with big doe eyes, rocked gently by Candella’s thrusts. 

“C’mon Blanche,” he breathes. “Give it to me, c’mon.”

_ God.  _

She spreads her lips and sits on his face. 

Candella toys with the idea of speeding up, but she hears Blanche’s soft sigh and decides against doing anything to further impede Spark’s ability. She can’t see Blanche’s face--which was probably her intention facing away--but she can definitely hear the wet sounds of Spark going to town. 

They move together, Spark’s moans muffled, Blanche biting hers back. Candella’s drowning, drowning in lust. Blanche starts to hunch forward. “Nn, yes...like that.”

Spark obviously complies and Candella watches Blanche’s toes curl. 

She speeds up. There’s a guttural groan and Spark tries to move his hips with her, but Blanche pulls his hair. “Don’t stop. S-Spark don’t stop”

He whines at that, dazed and fucked out and clutching at the bed sheets. Blanche licks her lips and sits up a little so he can draw gasping breaths. “You guys,” he wheezes out. “O-oh my god.”

Candella laughs, fingers digging into his skin. Blanche cards through his hair, breathless. “Keep going.”

“Yeah Spark.” Candella leers. “Be a good boy for us.”

Blanch glares over her shoulder, but Spark’s breath hitches.

“See,” Candella says. “He likes being called that.”

But they’re not listening because Spark’s laving his tongue over Blanche, fingers curling around her thighs and digging into her flesh as he digs into her cunt, and he’s good at it. He’s really good at it. He moans into her and Blanche sucks air through her teeth and Candella watches her shoulders tremble and Blanche watches his eyes roll back and she finally lets out this jerky little whine, this human, this desperate sound.

“Fuck,” she says. “Spark.”

Candella’s lips twitch into a snarl. “Turn around.”

“What?” 

“Blanche just. Turn around.”

Candella doesn’t think she’s going to do it. She’s sure Blanche is going to ignore her like she always does, brush her away like she always fucking does. But Blanche takes her hands out of Spark’s hair and Blanche turns around and Candella is stunned, an inferno roaring past her ears, a sticky heat in her gut, because-

Because Blanche looks so incredibly shy. 

Bottom lip caught between her teeth and eyes downcast, shirt still on and sticking to her skin with sweat. Candella’s rhythm stutters to a halt and Spark’s tongue keeps going strong. Blanche’s hands brace on his bare chest in a surprising display of weakness. She rocks her hips shallowly. “Hnn nnhg-” Swallows and looks up, lips part, eyebrows draw down in a mix of frustration and terrified vulnerability. “Well?”

Candella kisses her. 

Hand pressing against the back of her neck, sucking at her mouth and prying it open and Blanche trembles and Blanche makes this choked little whimper between their tongues and Candella growls. She remembers, belatedly, that she’s stopped fucking Spark and fumbles for his dick. It’s heavy on his abdomen, impossibly hard and weeping to be touched. She drags her hand over it and feels Spark jump under her, fully grasps him and he bucks his hips up, simultaneously fucking into her hand and fucking himself on the strap-on still buried in his ass. There’s a muffled whimper. Blanche breaks away, panting. 

“You,” she starts, gulps. “We haven’t touched you yet.”

Candella looks at her uncomprehendingly. 

“We haven’t-” Blanche tries again, breaks off with a ragged breath. Candella thumbs the head of Sparks dick and he ruts against her deliciously. Blanche gives up on talking and lurches forward to kiss Candella again, hands stuttering up before committing to grabbing Candella’s breasts. Candella makes a noise of surprise, but pushes her chest forward, shivering, flesh hungry, so so hungy. 

Blanche strokes over the soft flesh, thumbing over her nipples and Candella bites Blanche’s bottom lip and Blanche  _ moans  _ a breathy “Oh god” and she’s hunching over, breaking the kiss once again, forehead resting on Candella’s shoulder and abdomen contracting. 

“Hnghh, oh-”

Candella listens, eyes wide, until Blanche stiffly slides off of Spark and collapses on the bed. 

“Fuck,” Blanche says solemnly. 

“Fuck,” Candella echoes, for an entirely different reason. 

Spark gasps for breath, face flushed and smeared with Blanche’s wetness. “Please,” he says. “P-please Candella I’m so turned on I gotta cum. I need-”

Candella doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Spark  _ wails _ as she fucks him into the mattress. 

He cums with a deathgrip on the pillow on either side of his head, wheezing from the overstimulation and shooting over his own stomach. “Nngh, sh-shit, shit, Candella- Hahh.”

Candella stutters to a halt, panting and just as exhausted. She slips out of him and lets his legs fall off of her shoulders. His eyes are already half-closed, muscles shivering from the aftershocks. She sits back on her haunches, regaining her breath and already fumbling to take off the harness. It slides off her hips and Blanche pushes herself up to sit behind her. 

Blanche breathes into her ear for long enough to make it incredibly awkward (Candella expects nothing less at this point) before whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Candella barks out a hoarse laugh. “That’s my line,” she says while staring straight at a dozing Spark. A Spark who definitely deserves better than someone who uses him to get under her icy associates skin (and in her pants).

Blanche smiles against her neck. Her arms snake around to Candella’s front. “No, really.”

Candella’s breath hitches as Blanche’s long fingers tentatively drag over her sides, pressing divets into her skin. She starts kissing her neck, hot and soft, and Candella gives in and leans back against her. As the tenseness leeches from her bones, as Blanches hands dip down to her navel, as she moans-

Blanche daringly murmurs: “Good girl.”

Candella grins. “Shut the fuck up.”

Candella cums with her head tilted over Blanche’s shoulder, hands clawing at her thighs and ragged whimpers on her lips. Candella can still hear the inferno, can feel it eating her up. 

“Blanche- B-Blanche ohh fuckingshitdamn.”

“Heh.” It’s a soft little thing. Filled with something, maybe love, maybe even a fondness cool enough to keep her from burning alive. Maybe something important enough to actually  _ talk _ about.

But for now Candella catches her breath, grimaces. “Hah- Ah… God we’re gross. We need, I need to take a shower right now immediately.”

“Hey….You’re not covered in your own cum.”

“So you are awake!”

“Guhhhh.”

That night, Candella learns that three people absolutely cannot fit into her shower at once, among other things. 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [tumblr](http://banana-babies.tumblr.com/) if you want or you can just yell at me in the comments; ilu all <3 <3


End file.
